once, at once, I will order all Japanese out and cease all work!” His biliousness increased, for he did not have the authority, nor would he issue such orders. “Everything will stop!” “By the Prophet, we’re no longer subject to foreign blackmail,” the man blustered and turned away. “You’ll have to discuss this with the komiteh!” “Unless he’s released at once, all work ceases and there’ll be no more jobs. None!” As Minoru translated, Kasigi noticed a difference in the silence and the mood of those around. And even in the police officer himself, nastily aware that all eyes were on nun and sensing the sudden hostility. One youth nearby wearing a green band on his grimy pajamas said thickly, “You want to jeopardize our jobs, eh? Who’re you? How do we know you’re not a Shah man? Have you been cleared by the komiteh?” “Of course I have! By the One God I’ve been for the Imam for years!” the man replied angrily but a wave of fear went through him. “I helped the revolution, everyone knows. You,” he pointed at Kasigi, silently cursing him for causing all this trouble, “you follow me!” He pushed a way through the onlookers.
“I’ll be back, Captain Scragger, don’t worry.” Kasigi and Minoru rushed off in pursuit.
The police officer led the way down a flight of stairs and along a corridor and down other stairs, all of them crowded. Kasigi’s nervousness increased as they descended deeper into the hospital. Now the man opened the door with a notice in Farsi on it.
Kasigi broke out in a cold sweat. They were in the morgue. Marble slabs with bodies covered with grimy sheets. Many of them. Odor of chemicals and dried blood and offal and excrement. “Here!” the police officer said and tore back a sheet. Beneath it was the headless corpse of a woman. Her head was obscenely near the trunk, eyes open. “Your car caused her death, what about her and her family?” Kasigi heard the “your” and a freezing current went through him. “And here!” He ripped away another sheet. A badly mashed woman, unrecognizable. “Well?”
“We’re… we’re deeply sorry of course… of course we’re deeply sorry that anyone was hurt, deeply sorry, but that is karma, Insha’Allah, not our fault or the fault of the pilot upstairs.” Kasigi was hard put to hold his nausea down. “Deeply sorry.”
Minoru translated, the police officer leaning insolently against the slab. Then he replied and the young Japanese’s eyes widened: “He says, he says the bail, the fine to release Mr. Scragger immediately is 1 million rials. At once. What the komiteh decides is nothing to do with him.” One million rials was about $12,000. “That’s not possible, but we could certainly pay 100,000 rials within the hour.”
“A million,” the man shouted. He grabbed the woman’s head by the hair and held it up to Kasigi who had to force himself to stand erect. “What about her children who are now condemned forever to be motherless? Don’t they deserve compensation? Eh?”
“There’s… there’s not that amount of cash in … in the whole plant, so sorry.”
The policeman swore and continued to haggle but then the door opened. Orderlies with a trolley and another body came in, eyeing them curiously. Abruptly the policeman said, “Very well. We will go to your office at once.” They went and got the last amount Kasigi had offered, 250,000 rials - about $3,000 - but no receipt, only a verbal agreement that Scragger could leave. Not trusting the man, Kasigi gave him half in the office and put the rest into an envelope that he kept in his pocket. They returned to the hospital. There he waited in the car while Minoru and the man went inside. The waiting seemed interminable but finally Minoru and Scragger came down the steps with the policeman. Kasigi got out and gave the policeman the envelope. The man cursed all foreigners and went away truculently.
“So,” Kasigi said and smiled at Scragger. They shook hands, Scragger thanking him profusely, apologizing for all the trouble, both men cursing fate, blessing it, getting into the car quickly. The Iranian chauffeur swerved out into the traffic, swore loudly at an overtaking car that had the right of way and almost collided with him, jabbing the horn. “Tell him to slow down, Minoru,” Kasigi said. Minoru obeyed and the driver nodded and smiled and obeyed. The slowdown lasted a few seconds. “Are you all right, Captain?”
“Oh, yes. Headache’s a beaut but okay. The worst was wanting to pee.” “What?”
“The bastards kept me handcuffed to the bed and wouldn’t let me get to the loo. I just couldn’t do it in my pants, or in the bed, and it wasn’t till early this morning a nurse brought me a bottle. Christ, I thought my bladder was bust.” Scragger rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes. “No problem, old sport. I owe you one. Plus the ransom! How much was it?”
“Nothing, nothing to you. We have a fund for these hazards.” “It’s no problem, Andy Gavallan‘11 pay - oh, that reminds me, he said he knew your boss some years ago, Toda, Hiro Toda.”
“Ah so desu ka?” Kasigi was genuinely surprised. “Gavallan has choppers in Japan?”
“Oh, no. It was when he was a China trader, out of Hong Kong, when he was working for Struan’s.” The name sent a warning bolt through Kasigi that he kept bottled. “You ever heard of them?” “Yes, a fine company. Toda’s do, or did business with Struan’s,” Kasigi said smoothly, but he docketed the information for future consideration - wasn’t it Linbar Struan who unilaterally canceled five ship-leasing contracts two years ago that almost broke us? Perhaps Gavallan could be an instrument to recoup, one way or another. “Sorry you had such a bad time.” “Not your fault, cobber. But Andy’d want to pay the ransom. Wot’d they stick us for?”
“It was very modest. Please, let it be a gift - you saved my ship.” After a pause Scragger said, “Then I owe you two, old sport.” “We selected the driver - it was our fault.”
“Where is he, where’s Mohammed?”
“So sorry, he’s dead.”
Scragger swore. “It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t at all.”
“Yes, yes, I know. We have given his family compensation, and we will do the same for the victims.” Kasigi was trying to read how shaken Scragger was, wanting to know very much when he would be fit to fly, and greatly irritated with the day’s delay. It was imperative to get back to Al Shargaz as soon as possible, thence home to Japan. His work here was finished. Chief Engineer Watanabe was now totally on his side, the copies of his private reports would cement his own corporate position and enormously help him - and Hiro Toda - to reopen the possibility of persuading the government to declare Iran-Toda a National Project.
Not possibility, certainty! he thought, more confident than he had ever been. We’ll be saved from bankruptcy, we’ll bury our enemies, the Mitsuwari and Gyokotomo, and gain nothing but face ourselves - and profit, vast profit! Oh, yes. And the added piece of good fortune, Kasigi allowed himself a cynical smile, the explosively important copy of dead Chief Engineer Kasusaka’s private report to Gyokotomo, dated and signed, that Watanabe had miraculously “found” in a forgotten file while I was in Al Shargaz! I’ll have to be very careful how I use it, oh, very careful indeed, but it makes it all the more important that I get home as soon as possible. The streets and alleys were clogged with traffic. Above, the sky was still overcast but the storm had passed through and he knew the weather was flyable. Ah, I wish I had my own airplane, he thought. Say a Lear jet. The reward for all my work here should be substantial.
He let himself drift happily, enjoying his sense of achievement and power. “It looks like we will be able to begin construction very soon now, Captain.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. The head of the new komiteh assured us of their cooperation. It seems he knows one of your pilots, a Captain Starke - his name’s Zataki.” Scragger glanced at him sharply. “He’s the one Duke, Duke Starke, saved from the leftists and flew to Kowiss. If I were you, cobber, I’d, er, watch him.” He told Kasigi how volatile the man was. “He’s a right madman.” “He didn’t give that appearance, not at all. Curious - Iranians are very… very curious. But more important, how are you feeling?”
“I’m bonzer now.” Scragger exaggerated blithely. Yesterday and all night had been very bad, all the cursing and shouting and being handcuffed, not being able to make anyone understand, surrounded by hostility, eyes everywhere. Lost. And afraid. The pain increasing. Time agonizingly slow, hope fading, sure that Minoru was injured or dead along with the driver so that no one would know where he was or what had happened.
“Nothing that a good cup of tea won’t cure. If you’d like to leave at once, I’m okay. Just a quick bath and shave and cuppa and some grub and we’ll be on our merry way.”
“Excellent. Then we’ll leave the moment you’re ready - Minoru has installed the radio and checked it.”
All the way to the refinery and during the flight back to Lengeh, Kasigi was in very good spirits. Near Kharg they thought they spotted the huge hammerhead shark Scragger had once mentioned. They kept low and close inshore, the clouds still low and heavy, nimbus here and there with an occasional flash of lightning menacing them but not badly, only a little bumpy now and then. Radar surveillance and clearances were efficient and immediate which increased Scragger’s foreboding. Two days to Whirlwind, not counting today, was in the forefront of his mind.
